Explore "Matt" by Robert W. Buchanan on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Yes, it was the artist himself, looking a little pale, and carrying one arm in a sling, but otherwise, to all appearance, in good health.
Monk had strong nerves, but he could not prevent himself from uttering a wild cry of horror and wonder. At the same moment, Matt went to the young man's side, and with an air of indescribable trust and sweetness, took his hand -- the hand which was free -- and put it to her lips.